Prohibition

Poor Ying Jue. At barely a hundred years old, with the Mingtuo Peak lineage of the Heavenly Temple sparing no expense or effort to cultivate him, his strength had already reached the lower Saint Master realm—a level that an ordinary genius would need several thousand years to attain.

But he had never dreamed that Lin Qi, who had come to rescue him, would strike against him!

He had never dreamed that there would still be someone in the Blood Qin Empire who dared lay hands on him like this!

Still less had he imagined that although Lin Qi's battle qi cultivation was a rank below his, merely at the peak of Saint Warrior level, Lin Qi's physical strength was like a mountain, crushing him with absolute, overwhelming force.

With his body bound by the Dragon Trapping Lock, Ying Jue could only occasionally mobilize a small portion of his battle qi at certain times each day. Right now, he could only rely on physical strength to fight Lin Qi. Yet Lin Qi had one hand clamped tightly around his throat. No matter how Ying Jue clawed at Lin Qi's wrist and shook it wildly with both hands, it was like a mayfly trying to shake an iron tree—Lin Qi's hand did not move in the slightest.

That great hand gripped Ying Jue's throat like a mountain, while Lin Qi's other hand came down in a tempest of slaps.

Ying Jue's face turned red, then blue, then purple, until at last it became a dark violet-black. Then his skin split open beneath the blows, sending great sprays of blood flying. Ying Jue was so furious that the Three Corpse Gods were leaping in rage; his blood and qi churned through his body like a tide, and the blood in his veins had